


Away

by lmeden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 08:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/lmeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You met in the hallways of the Ministry of Magic, and stood on the verge of argument, never knowing what would happen to you next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Away

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I have to apologize for the Greek herein. Unfortunately, I didn’t know anyone who could translate into proper, ancient Greek, so I beg you not to be offended if you can read what I had to have quickly and inaccurately translated. It does look lovely, though, I’ll say that. Also, to the prompter! XD Thank you, darling, for the wonderful prompt. It was very inspiring and evocative, though this may have ended up more like a poem than other things. And thank you to my betas, leela_cat and viva_gloria, who worked hard to get me through this. Enjoy!

Harry was walking through the Ministry on his way to the Auror offices, his footsteps echoing down the nearly empty hall, when a file he’d brought home to work on slipped from his arms and scattered across the floor. He scowled at it for a moment before bending down.

A man stopped and knelt beside him, and his nimble fingers helped Harry gather his papers.

“Thanks.” Harry stood and glanced over. He froze, lips parted, and stared. It was Draco Malfoy. At the shocked glance, Malfoy tossed his head back and sent Harry a challenging look. As if to say, Yes, I did just help you. It was completely surreal.

Harry couldn’t believe it. Malfoy had helped him, but why? What did he want? He opened his mouth at ask Malfoy what he was doing, why he was in the Ministry, when he saw another man in the hall and shut his mouth. He wasn’t going to say anything nice, and he’d rather get into a row in private, rather than in front of a stranger. He’d matured that much, at least.

But the other man didn’t move on; he stopped behind Malfoy and leaned against the wall, smiling. Harry frowned at him. Malfoy followed his look and turned.

“There’s nothing there, Potter. Finally gone mad?”

Harry’s whipped his head around to glare at Malfoy, and had opened his mouth to tell the bastard off when he was hit from behind. His vision spun. As he fell, he heard a deep laugh, so unlike Malfoy. His last thought was of the glinting eyes of the dark-haired man.

\--

He woke gasping for breath, awareness coursing through him instantaneously. His hands fisted in grass and he jumped to his feet, just barely catching himself from falling over his robes. He turned, confused by the world around him.

He was standing on top of a rocky hill, tall enough that he could see across the buckled, forested land that spread out all around him. He spun, and saw that in that dim light it was pale green, blue, and gold spreading out as far as he could see, leading to an indigo horizon. The sky lightened in one direction as if the sun was about to rise, or set. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at himself, sure of trickery, of some sort of curse.

“ _Finite!_ ”

Nothing changed. There was a groan from the ground and he turned to look, wand ready. _Malfoy. Of course._

\--

Nervousness flooded Harry, and he walked away. He couldn’t stay with Malfoy, not when all they seemed to be able to do was argue. He’d figure out where they were and how they’d gotten here. And then he’d go home, with or without Malfoy.

“This isn’t my fault!” Malfoy cried behind him, and Harry continued walking down the hill.

He glanced halfway back, saying, “There’s no one else here. Had to be you, _Malfoy_.”

“My name is not an insult, Potter,” he spat, and Harry almost laughed at the vicious bite in his voice. As if Malfoy could really hurt him, even if he tried. Harry was a trained Auror.

But Malfoy wasn’t finished. “And I can’t help but notice that _you’re_ here as well. This is probably all your fault. You have a habit of getting into messes—“

Harry turned back, angered, just as the hill grew steeper. His foot slipped on a few loose stones, and he fell, sliding downwards. His chest slammed against the ground, driving a gasp out of his chest, and he scrabbled for a grip. He moved down the slope, which was not quite a cliff but close, and his thoughts began to whirl as the idea of falling tumbling to his death came to mind.

Malfoy seized his wrist, and Harry jerked to a stop. Harry’s wind came back and he gasped for breath. He looked up and saw that Malfoy had planted his feet at the edge of the slope and reached out, his balance precarious. Harry stared into the furious and defiant expression on his face, and the spark in his eyes, which were bleached to polished silver by the morning sun.

He turned his wrist and grasped Malfoy’s; brought his feet up and found a solid place to stand. He pushed up, and Malfoy let him go abruptly. Harry climbed carefully off the steep part of the hill and massaged his wrist, sighing. He wished he’d had his wand out – he hadn’t been able to reach it, in the falling rush. If not for Malfoy…

“We can’t fight like this. Not when we’ve no clue where we are or how we got here.” He gathered his courage and looked back at Malfoy to see his reaction.

Malfoy’s arms were crossed and his nod was short, but it seemed he agreed. “Yeah Potter, I’ll put my wand away if you will.” Then he grinned, as if he knew that Harry’s palm itched for the wood of his wand, still deep in his pocket, that he wanted to hex the smugness right off Malfoy’s face.

He brushed past Harry, bounding gracefully down the hill, his robe billowing out over the rocks. “Come on then, let’s solve this mystery!”

Malfoy’s voice echoed back, and with a sour grimace, Harry followed.

\--

They were almost underneath the rocky crag when they heard laughter. Harry whipped out his wand and stepped back into the shadows, wary. Malfoy raised his wand, whispering, “ _Lumos_ ,” and stepping forward. He craned his head back.

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed, “Get back here.”

Draco glared at him. “There are people up there. Food, too, I’d think.” He moved away, disappearing around a boulder, the light from his wand flicking out.

“Malfoy.” Harry didn’t dare shout after him – it did sound like there were people above them, but Harry had no idea what they were doing and he wasn’t going to run off after them without checking to be sure that they wouldn’t kill him first. Malfoy was being the impulsive one, and he didn’t have Harry’s luck to keep him out of trouble.

Harry moved slowly forward, wand out, and peered around the corner. Draco had put his wand away and was climbing the rocky side of the rise. Harry darted over and seized his ankle; Draco slipped halfway and crouched, bringing himself down to Harry’s eye level.

“Let me go.”

Harry understood his desperation – they hadn’t dared drink the brackish water they’d found that morning, and he was so hungry he felt hollow. It felt like forever since he’d sat down to a meal, or talked with a friend, though it had only been a day. He knew what Malfoy yearned for. But he couldn’t let him run off and get them both killed.

“No, wait, Malfoy, listen to me. We can’t just run up there – we don’t know where we are or who they are, they might _eat us_ for all we know.”

Draco’s eyebrow rose, incredulous. “Honestly.” He jabbed Harry’s wrist with his wand and Harry pulled back, hissing. As Draco reached up again to climb, Harry went for his own wand. He’d stop Malfoy however he could.

The sharp cry of a rooster crackled through the air and Harry froze, heart pounding. Malfoy slid, and, with a clatter, tumbled to the ground beside him. Harry raked a hand through his hair and looked down at Malfoy’s face, so shocked and open. He reached out a hand.

“Fine, let’s go,” he said, and Malfoy cautiously reached up and allowed Harry to pull him to his feet. “But let’s find an easier way up.”

\--

“No!” Harry cried.

The conversation around them slowed and Malfoy let Harry pull his arm back, hiding his wand behind his robe. Malfoy had been about to curse a Muggle. He glanced around the room, but aside from murmurs, the Muggles didn’t seem too angry about Malfoy’s wand waving. His recklessness was making Harry dizzy. He turned back to the table and picked up the goblet he’d nearly dropped. The wine within sloshed. Harry hadn’t had even a sip. Malfoy settled on the wooden bench beside him and Harry set the cup down again.

The bench shook again as someone else sat on the other side of him, and Harry glanced over. A beautiful woman smiled at him, face half-obscured by her dark, curled hair. White fabric draped over her shoulders and low on her chest, revealing a large golden pendant resting on her collarbones; an owl with enormous, round eyes. Harry stared at her.

“τον αδελφό μου σας έδωσε αυτή η αναζήτηση και στα αριστερά σας όλα μόνοι τους, δεν έχει ούτε ο ίδιος;” She smiled and lifted her hand to Harry’s cheek. He found he couldn’t move away. “πόσο σκληρή από αυτόν. Ο ίδιος αφήνει πάντοτε μου να καθαρίσει την λεσχών.”

Harry felt Malfoy lean over next to him, listening to the woman that neither of them could understand.

“Δεν έχω χρόνο για να σας πω περισσότερα απ' αυτό, έτσι πρέπει να κάνετε το μεγαλύτερο μέρος της παρέμβασής μου. σοβαρά υπόψη μου και εγώ δεν θα σας πω και πάλι. Πάμε στην Αθήνα. Θα βρείτε τον αδελφό μου εκεί, και τις απαντήσεις σας ερώτηση. Η Αθήνα είναι δική σας πεπρωμένου.”

Harry pulled back suddenly, pressing against Malfoy fully as he realized that he could move. “Shit,” Malfoy hissed behind him, and pushed back. Harry looked up and saw that the woman was gone.

He whipped back around and looked at Malfoy, thrilled as he realized what he had just heard. “Did you hear what she just said?”

“Yeah, a load of gibberish..”

“No, she said ‘Athens’. ‘Athens.’”

Malfoy stared at him.

\--

Harry tossed the thought around his mind. They were in Greece – ancient Greece, judging by the draped robes that everyone else was wearing, and the fairly primitive style of absolutely _everything_ , from buildings to furniture. How had they come here? Harry hadn’t seen a time turner when he fell in the Ministry, just that laughing man. He didn’t know of any magic strong enough to do this. He frowned and looked around the tavern, then down.

The wine was black in his cup. As Harry stared down into it, the rippling reflections stilled. Just above his own face was reflected another. It was a man with a thick, curling beard, and dark hair. There were deep groves around his eyes, the kind worn by laughter. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Harry stared, stunned by recognition.

It was the man from the Ministry - the man who had laughed at him, who Malfoy had denied seeing. After falling, they had both woken here, in ancient Greece.

He looked up. No one was there.

\--

Harry woke with the morning sun across his face and the pounding of the sea in him. He rolled over and reached out, shaking Malfoy to wake him up. He jerked awake and looked at Harry sharply; frowned. He pushed to his feet and walked to the cliff’s edge; Harry watched him lean out, the wind and sunrise setting his fair hair aflame.

It was warm, even so early in the day.

Harry arched up as he stretched, legs aching. They were going to have to walk even further today to reach the city. All they had were vague directions from local families – they would ask “Athens?” and be pointed down the road. It felt like they’d been walking for weeks, though it was only a few days. He sighed and stumbled to his feet,

“Let’s go,” he said, and started moving. He didn’t look back, but felt Malfoy close behind him.

\--

It was three more days and two more towns before they found Athens. Harry knew that this was the city they had been looking for by the hill in the center, covered with many bright temples, placed all up its sides. At the very top another temple, taller than all the rest and painted in a thousand colors, gleamed. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off it, Draco grabbed at his arm to prevent his from wandering off, and the city swallowed them up.

The buildings blocked his view and broke the spell. Harry looked down at Malfoy, who was glaring around. “This is it. She said Athens and we’ve found Athens. Draco…” Harry stopped as Draco whipped around and sent him a vicious glare. Harry looked away again, flushing.

The city was packed with life, as bright and multi-coloured as every temple on the hill – maybe more so. He saw men and women in white robes walking everywhere, flashes of light between the dark skin of dancing girls and tall warriors, the golden fur of tall, groaning camels, the flailing wings of captured birds, and a multitude of things being sold. Harry saw small pots and enormous pots, jewelry that looked to be pure gold, and priceless stones, gilded swords, and the best smelling food he’d ever smelled. The noise was cacophonous – he couldn’t hear himself think, and it overwhelmed him.

Draco’s hand was still on his arm, and he leaned into it, clutching it in turn. At least with his own dark hair and white Auror’s robes, even dirty as they were from travel, he blended in a bit. Draco was the exact opposite, all white hair and dark robes, and he stood out like a sore thumb.

Of course, in a city as diverse and mad as this, Harry didn’t think anyone would notice them.

\--

If Draco hadn’t remembered (finally) the translation spell, Harry didn’t know what they would have done. I had French relatives, he’d explained, and Harry didn’t even bother to point out that he’d used the past tense. Harry didn’t even know how to think about everyone they’d left behind – were they still alive, somehow, or were they gone forever? He was afraid that, for the two of them, their homes were gone.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he felt his eyes prickle with the threat of tears. He bit the corner of his lip. It was painful to think of home, of that old life which already seemed so far away.

This one was, at least, becoming more bearable. When the translation spell had poured over Harry it had felt like an icy wave, sending chills through him. His ears had immediately opened up to the sound of English words around him. He listened to a man complaining to a friend about his wife, an old woman haggling over prices, and a young girl’s stammering confession of love. He turned to Draco and smiled, and watched as Draco slowly smiled back.

\--

There was a single bed in the room. It was carved from the stone of the wall and piled high with cushions. In a small alcove across the room sat an unlit candle. “ _Incendio_ ,” Harry flicked his wand. It burst into flame and lit the small chamber. It was dark and grim, but when Harry leaned back out the doorway and looked down the hall, he could see through a small carved window to the glittering stars in the sky.

He pulled closed the curtain that served as a door closed and stepped inside. Draco was on the bed, slumped against the cushions with his eyes already closed. The lamplight warmed and softened his features. Harry knew how he felt – exhaustion was dragging his own eyelids down. He pulled off his Auror robes and let them pool to the ground, kicked his shoes clattering across the room.

He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of the cushions, nudging Draco over. “Shift over.” Draco just groaned and pushed weakly back.

As Harry shifted Draco up and over so that he could lie on the bed too, he noticed that Draco was taller than him. It was odd that he’d never realized that before. Draco always seemed smaller and weaker, in need of protection from everything around him, even himself.

Harry lay down, and Draco pressed hot against his back. The air in the room was cool, and Harry felt the chill of the stone through the cushions beneath them. He hesitated, then reached back and drew one of Draco’s arms around him. Draco sighed and pressed his dry lips in the place where Harry’s hair ended.

\--

She leaned against the lintel of a doorway, her robes draped so low in the front that Harry almost expected to see a flash of breasts when she moved. She smiled at him, and Harry walked toward her. Behind him, he heard Draco say something, and ignored it.

It wasn’t the same woman as before, the one who told them ‘Athens’, but she was almost as beautiful. She moved as he drew near and Harry paused. “Can I ask you a question?”

Her face was amused. “Of course you can. We can do that inside, you know.” She stepped towards the door and Harry held out a hand.

“No, wait, I just need to ask you something.”

She stopped and reached outward, her expression saying, _Well?_

“Where can we go to find a way back home? We need to find someone who can tell us how to get home, we’re from very far away.” He looked up into her dark eyes. Her eyelids fell; she was clearly thinking. Harry wanted to ask again, and ask more clearly, but how could he do that without telling her that they’d been magically sent back in time and must go thousands of years forward again to go home?

Draco stepped past him, their shoulders brushing.

“We’ve been tricked by the gods,” he said. “We have been taken far from our homes and we need to get back.”

The woman visibly pulled away from them. “I won’t interfere with the gods. You must speak with the god who did this to you. Go to the god’s temple on the hill and make an offering. Leave me out of it.” With that she brushed through her curtained doorway and left them.

Draco turned, smile incredulous. “Well, you heard her. Let’s go to the hill.”

“And how are we supposed to find this god? Come on, we don’t even know that it was a god who did this to us. I saw a man.”

“Oh, I know what you saw, you’ve told me enough times. But how else was I going to explain magic to her? You couldn’t seem to figure that out. And if there’s anything that will be able to get us back home, it will be the gods. So? Let’s go.” He turned to leave and Harry cried,

“Draco, stop, there’s no such thing as gods!”

And then stopped, because at the end of the street he saw the bearded man. He was still within the stream of people moving in the street, and smiled, his eyebrows raised.

\--

His heart was racing, running towards the dark haired man before his feet took a single step. He swallowed and pulled his thoughts into line.

Harry stepped forward. His hand brushed Draco’s sleeve. “Do you see him?”

The man was turning away and beginning to blend into the crowd, but Draco nodded and said, “I see him, “ his voice full of wonder. He’d never believed Harry when he told him about the man he kept seeing, and now he had to believe.

“We can’t lose him!” Harry ran after the man, pushing Draco aside. He heard Draco following, feet pounding against the cobbled street.

They raced through the crowd, pausing just briefly to catch sight of the bearded man again. He was walking away from them, but Harry and Draco couldn’t catch him up. Harry skidded to a halt at one point, knocking into a vendor’s display of pots, sending one taller than him swaying. The man shouted, but he sprinted away, wincing at the crash behind him.

Soon the streets began to clear and grow less crowded. Harry was behind Draco, panting for breath as he dodged the small groups of people walking the streets. A flock of birds sprung up in Draco’s wake and forced Harry to slow down or run into their beaks and claws.

As he pushed past them, he looked ahead and saw the man again. He turned and disappeared from view. Wasting no time for curses, he sped up, and took the corner just behind Draco.

Above them rose the temple district, immense structures sculpted and painted until they stunned the eye. The street ahead slanted upwards and curved as the hill rose, and Harry watched the dark haired man make his way along it.

Again, they ran. The temples swallowed them, immense around them. Here, the city was nearly deserted, and their steps were the only sound Harry could hear. He saw the man go left and turned immediately, dodging through the columns and low steps around the temples until he reached another street, where he could see the man. He nearly ran into an old woman with unbound grey hair as long as her robe, and tripped over the steps of another temple. He gasped for breath, palms and hips stinging where he’d fallen, and pushed back up.

If he didn’t catch this man, he’d never get back home. Somehow, he knew that the man was his only way back to the life he knew.

Just ahead, Draco bounded out from between to temples, eyes wild and wand out, dark robes swirling around him. He paused, flushed from exertion, and then took off as he saw that man. They ran together, then, nearly stride for stride. Harry slowed to pull out his own wand and then sprinted to catch up.

He watched the man walk up the steps of a wholly white temple, just bare stone, and vanish inside. Harry jumped over the steps entirely, and within four strides was in the temple as well. Draco gasped for breath beside him. The dark haired man stood in a spotlight of sunlight, and smiled at them. Behind them, the temple doors slammed closed.

\--

Draco strode forward, wand out, and Harry didn’t try to stop him this time. He let him go and stood between the dark haired man and the door.

“Send us home, now,” Draco said, wand held in a dueling stance. Harry flicked the edge of his robes back and settled into position to wait, concentrating on slowing his breathing and calming down.

“No,” the man replied. His voice deep and amused. Harry thought that he might burst in laughter at any moment.

Draco’s back tensed, and then he said, “ _Imperio!_ ” The light of the spell flashed out and poured over the man, before fading away. Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco’s back.

The man stepped forward, and Draco moved back. The man was no longer smiling. “Don’t use your trickery on me, boy. You will always lose.”

Harry’s wand shifted and he tightened his grip. It moved further, twisting, and he looked down. Twisting around his wand, under his fingers, were a pair of snakes. He held in a gasp and let the wand go. He heard a sharp cry and looked up to see Draco do the same.

Draco threw his head back and crossed his arms. “Who are you, and what do you want with us?”

The man straightened, his arms going behind his back. “I am nothing that you can comprehend, Draco Malfoy,” he smiled softly as Draco stiffened further, “and Harry Potter.” Harry’s skin crawled under his scrutiny and he curled his hands into fists. He didn’t care who this man was, or how powerful he was, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“I am a god. And you are right in thinking that I brought you here.”

“Why?” Harry couldn’t stay silent anymore – the word just slipped out of him, violent and short.

“I couldn’t let you stay there. I couldn’t let you have that argument.”

“What argument?”

“You should remember. You met in the hallways of the Ministry of Magic, and were about to start yelling when I came to stop you.”

“And why would you care about whether we argue or not? We’ve done it since we were little,” Draco cut in.

“Yes, you have. But that argument – the one you haven’t yet had – would have been your last. You never would have spoken again after that day, and the silent war between you would have divided the Wizarding World until your deaths. You both would have remained unhappy for the rest of your lives. You cannot have the argument - I won’t allow it.”

Chills ran through Harry. He didn’t think he could hold a grudge for that long – then again, he had held a grudge against Draco for over ten years, now. He glanced at Draco. Maybe it was time to let that go. “How do you know all this?”

The man smiled, blindingly, and he looked very young and wild. Harry thought, for an instant, he saw wings silhouetted in the yellow light from above. “Have you forgotten already? I am a god. Even if you do not worship me, I shall forever hold power over the world.”

And he was gone, leaving only motes of dust dancing in the air where he had stood.

\--

It was mad – impossible to think that a god had tossed them backwards in time like a pair of worn out toys just to prevent their arguing. Harry thought that he must be dreaming, but as he stood in the silent temple, looking up through the open, unfinished roof above them, he felt the truth in the god’s words.

As if the god – and which god had it been? – had opened a window in his mind, Harry saw what could have been. His argument with Draco would have been vicious and cruel, and though they wouldn’t have physically fought, it would have come close. They would have avoided each other, and hated from afar. Harry would have married Ginny and been only partially happy. The wounds left by the War, which had split the Wizarding World into pieces, would never heal.

It might have been the god’s magic or a sudden burst of his own wisdom. Whatever it was, he couldn’t see what would happen now that they had been pulled out of that argument. They had traveled across an ancient, wild country together and survived. They had found strength and trust in each other. What now? Were they stranded here in the past, exiled by the gods so that they wouldn’t mess up the future?

He looked over at Draco, who stood with his shoulders hunched. He couldn’t argue with him, not after all this. He looked down and saw that the snakes were gone from their wands – they were just wood again. He picked them both up and walked over to Draco.

Draco wouldn’t take his wand when Harry held it out. “Take it, Draco. You’re our only hope now.”

Draco looked at him slowly, and frowned. “What?”

“You can fix things. You fixed the Vanishing Cabinet in sixth year, you have to try and fix this.”

His stare was incredulous and amazed. “I can’t fix this, I’ve told you a thousand times, _I can’t fix it_!”

“Have you tried?” Harry asked.

“Damn it, stop!” He snatched his wand from Harry’s hand and spun, sending a curse after him.

Harry jumped aside and sent a curse of his own flying after him. Draco blocked it and then stopped. Harry waited. Draco fingered his wand and then said,

“Bugger it all, _Expelliarmus_!”

Harry let the spell hit him and his wand went flying, clattering and rolling across the floor to land at Draco’s feet. He held his hands out to the side.

“So are you going to curse me? Kill me?”

“No!”

They stood silent for a long moment. Draco tucked his wand away and ran his hand through his hair. The ends of it fell across his sunburned cheekbones. Harry thought for a moment more and then made his decision.

“Keep the wand,” he said. “It’s yours anyway.”

“What?”

Harry smiled and stepped forward. “Are you going to keep asking me that? That’s your wand, the one you got from Ollivander’s when you were eleven. Past time I returned it to you.”

Draco looked down at the wand at feet, eyes wide and wondering. He bent and picked it up, rolling it in his palm.

Harry walked over to him. “Look, if we’re going to be stuck here…” He grimaced and trailed off.

Draco stood, and a tenuous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Thank you,” he said. Harry smiled back.

He watched Draco slip the wand carefully into his robe, as if he was afraid to let it go. Harry understood that. He carried his own wand around with him, though it was in pieces. Draco straightened; Harry reached out, impulsive, and pulled him into an embrace.

Draco stiffened against him, obviously, but slowly relaxed and brought his arms around Harry in return. Harry closed his eyes, trying to hold close this moment of peace before he had to let his entire past go, and start a new life.

The air grew stuffy and close, and frowning, Harry opened his eyes. He gasped and pulled away from Draco. The Ministry. They were back in the Ministry of Magic. He spun, searching for the dark haired man, but he wasn’t there. No one was. They were alone in the hallway, just as they had been that morning (only a week ago?) when they’d been shoved backwards in time.

Draco looked at him, a bit wild around the eyes, and Harry knew that he looked just as mad. “The argument,” Draco breathed, and Harry understood.

They wouldn’t argue now. Because of what they’d experienced, they would never have a fight like that – they never would. Harry laughed, and laughed. Just when he thought he’d never come home again, here he was. He realized, now, just how small and crowded the Ministry halls were, after so long in the open air. He wanted out.

He looked down at the soiled hem of his Auror’s robe, the polished stone lining the halls, and then up at Draco’s startled face. Harry couldn’t tell if he was happy or not, and didn’t care. He didn’t know if he himself was happy or not. And he didn’t really care.

All he knew was that he needed some fresh air. He stepped right up to Draco, feeling like a teenager again. Before he could say a word, Draco reached up and hooked a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him forward until Harry got a hand between them and stopped himself centimeters away.

He stared into Draco’s grey eyes and wondered if his excitement and apprehension were as plain to see as Draco’s. He licked his lips and tightened his grip.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Apparated them away.


End file.
